Picking Daisies
by AllTimeNatalie
Summary: 'What's happening to us Howard' 'I guess we just keep picking the wrong daisies.' Slight Howince.


**DISCLAIMER: ****I own no rights to Mighty Boosh or the characters**

**A/N:**** Me: In the story I will be firing some hot vocabulary nuggets at you all so be ready for some pretty powerful stuff. :D**

**Vince: I've read this, it's pretty good. **

**Me: Cheers mate. Where's Howard? **

**Vince: He's with Bollo and Naboo playing **_**Chase the Ace**_** wanna go and join in? **

**Me: Alright then. Enjoy the story :D**

**SUMMARY: ****'What's happening to us Howard?' 'I guess we just keep picking the wrong daisies.' **

**TITLE: ****Picking Daisies **

o0o

**Picking Daisies **

Monday, 09:28 am, Howard is in the kitchen making a cup of tea whilst Vince is oblivious to the rest of the world. He can't remember when it was they woke up and had breakfast together, it was a while back that much is obvious but the rest is a fuzzy blur. He drains the tea bag and throws it into the bin, stirring the hot beverage once more and making his way back into their shared room. It looks a state, Vince's NME magazines are strewn across the floor and the corner of one is seeping into Howard's half of the room. He sits in his bed and stares at the black haired boy opposite him. He looks so peaceful, so intent on completing his dream that Howard cannot bring himself to wake him up by throwing a pillow across the room to hit him on the head. He looks at his clock a final time and the green block numerals read 09:30. He takes the first sip of his piping hot tea and places the cup neatly on the bedside table. It's raining outside so he places his headphones over his ears and presses play on the iPod he bought last summer to be greeted by some jazz record from what seems like centuries ago. The pattering of the rain is now drowned out by the blaring music and so is Vince's soft snoring. The time passes in relative silence outside the headphones until Vince wakes up and stretches. His bright blue eyes flutter open elegantly and he catches sight of his friend. Sitting up, he throws his legs over the edge of the bed and stands up, swiftly making his way over to Howard's bed at the other end of the room.

"Howard?" He whispers as his voice has not yet woken up like him but his companion takes no immediate notice. "Howard?" he repeats a second time, again receiving no attention until the third time when he turns to violence and hits him over the head with a pillow.

"Oh Vince, I was in my own world then." He chuckled, picking up the mug beside him and hauling himself into a standing position. With that, he walks into the living room and completely ignores Vince's existence for the rest of the hour. He doesn't know why he is being like that; he figures maybe he still has sore feelings due to the previous night when Vince embarrassed him by accident on stage at _The Velvet Onion_.

"'Oward? Are you still mad at me over last night?" Vince asks, defenceless and completely out of other questions to ask the moustached man.

"What? No idea what you're talking about, Vince." He concludes, taking the last bite of his melba toast and clearing the plate away though Vince knows that there is something deeper going on in his best friend's head.

"You do know, when I accidentally got your pants caught on my mic' stand and pulled your pants down when I tried unhooking you." His voice is not pleading for forgiveness but the Northern maverick just nods.

"Oh that's forgotten." He defensively chuckles but Vince knows it's anything but.

"I can tell it's not Howard just speak to me." Vince pleads, running an exasperated hand through his hair. "Howard, we never used to be like this. What's happened to us?" He asks mournfully, his eyes looking tired and sick to death of his and Howard's arguments.

"I guess we just keep picking the wrong daisies." He explains, using one of his metaphors or similes.

"What?" Vince asks, confusion written deep in his sparkling eyes.

"We just keep picking the wrong daisies in life." He explains yet again and yet again, Vince has no idea what his friend is going on about but he doesn't care because he is getting his Howard back. "I guess it's the stress, it must be getting to us. Look Vince, I'm sorry for back answering and bickering with you and all but I can't help getting high strung about things and in fairness, you did pull my pants down." Vince sits up and sighs dejectedly.

"It was by accident." He reminds Howard, hoping that maybe, just maybe Howard won't excuse it as one of his made up pretexts he does so love to use.

"I know little man." Howard calmly chuckles, taking Vince into his arms and holding him there. He repeats in his mind that he hates being touched but its okay this time because Vince needs him more than ever. "I'm sorry we ended up like this." He whispers, the rain still pounding on the windows and almost covering Howard's broken undertone. He holds him there on the sofa, running a hand through his layered black hair and reminding himself that this is what it is and what it should always be.

**A/N: ****Did you like it? Hate it? Love it? Want to print it off and burn it? Please review! I am getting over writers block so go easy on me. **


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